Raising A Sun
by Shishio-Dawn
Summary: !going to develop into an OC-Story!This story will feature a lot of characters of the One Piece universe. I don't know what this will turn into but I hope I can make it worthwhile. Please, give it a try. For now it only follows young Shanks' tracks.
1. Chapter 0

**Information**

Before I get started I'm gonna shout out some warnings:

**First**: I'm not a native English-speaker. I can hardly call it my mother tongue. Thereby it's fair to mention that there might be some unpleasant mistakes in my grammar and stuff.

I try to keep them at a minimum but they're probably going to happen.

So, sorry for that.

**Second**: Like already mentioned this is going to become an OC-story. And not only one, but quite a few will enter the scene. I'm trying to make them conclusive yet I don't know rather I will succeed or not. I'm usually not very creative, more the scientific type of girl PLUS this is my first fanfiction so my success might not be bound to happen.

When I don't find the time or space to explain each character in the story, I might put the description in the head of the next chapter or when any reviewers request better explanations.

I at least hope that the other characters, those I generously lend from our beloved Oda, will not be to OOC.

**Third**: I'm not so sure rather I'm going to insert any romance or sex in this story or how explicit I would describe it…

But better be warned that this might content Shonen-Ai at some point or any other of at least mentioned sexual scenes. So the Rating might go up to M.

**Forth:** It might take a while until I could to the core of the Story where the intention and the meaning of the odd (but intended) title are revealed.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One - On my own two feet**

Rain was falling in heavy drops upon the whole audience. People standing pressed together in the plaza

All just waiting to observe the event of this century, this Era.

All just waiting to see him fall – The King of Pirates – Gol D. Roger.

Most of them were shaken by his mere appearance, this peculiar and intimidating aura that engulfed and vibrated from his whole frame. Quite a few were laying on the floor unconscious, too weak to stand in his presence.

Among this audience were the great of tomorrow, those who will soon walk the way of the sea, setting sail towards the Grandline to claim what others left behind or to conquer and ravish what others hold dear.

But even they, usually exaggeratingly confident hold their breaths for the man who smiled in the face of his upcoming death.

Reaching his final destination, he sat cross-legged like this was no execution but a tea ceremony.

"Roger! Tell us! Where is One Piece!" screeched by commoner, the grin of Gold Roger grew even wider as he uttered his most famous words.

A sensation unmatched by any other experience before washed over the crowed and all screamed their excitement in the still smiling face as the blades fell down to end his life.

* * *

><p>Lightning jammed over Baterilla. I women of delicate beauty stand upon the beach as the realization came upon her fragile emotions. Tears were dropping down onto her swollen belly.<p>

The sea and the sky both carried away the fate of her beloved and heaved this heavy fate upon herself and her child.

Her child kicked hard and she could nearly hear him scream.

"Hush, I know-", she patted her belly to calm the growing child, as she stood in the creeping darkness that follows after the last ray of light in the moment of dusk.

"-but Daddy is not gone, my love." she pressed her eyes tightly shut and yet gave a genuine smile.

One that her kinfolk was used to give, even in the most desperate situations.

"His will and soul lives on, not only through you but in the successors of the new Era." The child stilled as if the words and the energy of its mother went straight to his heart and mind.

* * *

><p>Upon the street of Logue town a youngster ran from the scene of madness in front of the scaffold. Behind him was his Nakama - former Nakama now, since his captain lay dead – crying his eyes out, snotty glibber running down his ridiculous, already red nose.<p>

"Come with ME! We can form a crew together, that's for the best, I suppose…" offered the young boy but was hit by a hard reply:

"WHAT? NO WAY! Do you think, I would follow a dumbass like you, I HATE YOU! AND WHAT DID YOU SAY ABOUT MY NOSE! YOU BASTARD?"

He was about to beat the living hell out of his former crewmember. Nothing mattered now since the Captain was dead! Dead… The tears violently forced their way out of his swollen eyes. It hurt so badly.

"Fine! But be careful" and his fellow friend fled out of his sight and disappeared in the streams of rain.

His vision was blurred. _'Damn rain'_ it didn't take him long until he realized that his eyes caused this effect. He stumbled into an abandoned, small alley unaware of the stern eyes watching him from afar.

Exhausted and deafened by pain he broke down against a wall and screamed his whole agony out into the stormy night. Nobody heard him over the roaring sky. He wondered if it was howling solely for his captain's sake.

He remembered an old tale, matter-of-factly it was probably as ancient as piracy itself, he once read in the favorite book of his captain:

_["Once a pirate is tempted by the sea he has no choice but to follow before the yearning smatters his being. Once he enters a ship, no matter where his origins once lied, the Sea becomes his new mother and guides him towards freedom. Mother Sea never lets a pirate die before he reaches his destination. Nevertheless she bemoans the death of her every very son. Her cries echo in the sky and in the ears of all entwined with her._

_Once you get caught in her waves she won't let you go and will keep you by her side forever."]_

This memory smeared a sad smile upon his oh-so-young and handsome features remembering how he himself was first embraced by the Sea and her promises.

Whipping the last tear from his wet face he stood on wobbly legs and started to shiver. Only now he noticed the cold – and sneezed.

As he stepped out on the street at the other end everything was empty, no soul remained after the spectacle was over. In front of him, only a few footsteps apart, was a run-down bar stating "Golden Rain"

The youngster laughed whole-heartingly as he stepped toward the honky-tonk musing that the fate's irony has found him once again.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two - Fateful meeting **

Even on his face appeared a small smile has the Gold Roger's life ceased from this world.

'_I'm most delighted. So even a legend CAN die,… physically'_ turning from the event right before his eyes as Rogers energy spread all over the place and infected everybody with an unknown force that turned them into howling baboons.

His mind was already set before this ordeal. He was bound to go out by fate although the Sea was meaningless to him. All he sought was a worthy opponent, a challenge, a good battle that would shake the entire world.

As he made his way through the crowd they backed away, terrified by his mere glance. Before he set sail he wished to pay some tribute to this legend.

Although he would never admit it, even he got more out this event when simple entertainment. Something commoners would call hope.

The storm was dampening his jet black hair. His long elegant coat hung heavy on his shoulders.

In the corner off his sharp eyes he caught an interesting scene of two youngsters. They were holding hands…but not in the classical sense the other was literally holding the separated hand of the other. No words of their fight reached his ears yet he could see the strong disturbance in their eyes. They parted, one heading towards the North, while the other stumbled back into the crowd.

Intrigued by their clash he strolled after them and decided on the one running away from the scaffold. Devil Fruits, he has seen them before and they don't even spark an interest.

But something of the other…was off. He could not put his finger on it. Maybe he will find out.

On his stalking he watched from a far, well hidden in the shadow, how the youngster, he could hardly be older than sixteen, broke out in tears, sunk into his thought and laugh like a maniac facing a bar sign, all in a matter of moments.

Nothing to special but nothing to common either.

It stank inside of this run-down dive. Beer, sweat, salt, strong liquor and a drop of blood mixed together with piss and vomit. A typically lovely pirate bar. He remained unfazed and sneaked into the far end corner of this hole while his object of interest sat happily on the bar. He hoped this idiot was worth his time.

As he did not even half finish this excuse for rum the other already downed his sixth glass, obviously wishing to zoom out of everything via getting wasted.

From here on he took his time to fully memorize the young male. Quite small compared to his own size, ripped simple pirate clothing, confident stance despite his young age and small frame, a saber loosely hanging by his side. The only thing off were this bright red mane under a worn straw hat.

Even though he is usually unimpressed by such fleeting and vain details he had to admit, the stranger was truly handsome. He is still stuck in between childhood and adolescence giving him the benefits of both soft feminine and hard manly features.

Even in his drunken state, the youngster was not completely unaware of his surrounding, growling once in a while and shooing away everyone of this filth in the bar that tried to pick him up. But making sure they bought him a drink before he sent them back to their sights

'_So he is a pirate-swordsman? Sure looks the part. The way he drinks like a bottomless…'_

A slamming noise snapped him out of his thoughts, grabbing his own sword ever so softly, not intending to start a fight but ready to defend himself and kill the intruder.

He was inwardly stunned seeing the young pirate in front of him. His drunken face was flushed and his eyes slightly off but grinning like a mad-man.

"Yo!" the pirate nearly fell of the chair he tried to sit upon, nearly choking on his laugh. He ordered another round and had the insolence to ask for two.

"It is rude and dangerous to force yourself upon someone pirate." I growled out. He simply continued laughing although my glare was murderous, in fact it always was. It started to tick me off.

"It's ev'n ruder to stare at people wit'out even buying them a drink, y'know! So from here on, ya're paying. Sounds fair to me, aye?" He grinned out, his words slightly slurred by all the booze he already consumed. My head started to pound pretty badly over his boldness and oblivion towards my warning signals. _'Your truly begging to be killed, boy'_

"Since when do pirates play fair?"

"My kind does" he cheekily answered between his drunken howling laughter.

"All pirates are the same to me" I seemed to have hit a nerve because he gaped at me.

"No, no, no way! There are the greedy kind who just want to ravish everything whose who don't know the true meaning of pirate!"

"And that would be?" I skeptically eyed the change in his features. Their light up completely. He holds the same glint in his eyes that old men used to have when he's talking about some cock-and-bull story. He never was one for pretty little fairytales. Just a waste of time.

"My, aren't you a pirate yourself? I mean the ones who set out to seek freedom and adventure! Finding something precious no one else has laid eyes upon before! Don't you have a dream?"

"No and I am no pirate either. I just roam the Sea because it suits me. Nothing special about." _'What a naïve upon this grim world. But this charisma and will… No doubt about it, he sure has the guts to put his words into action.'_

"A goal?", I didn't say anything but narrowed my eyes. This seemed sophisticated enough for an answer since he drew even nearer to pat my shoulder "See? That's something, ain't it? I knew you were good company" and swallowed his drink in one gulp.

"Take your hands off if you have any intention of keeping them, Akagami! I am not known for my kindness…" I growled out. "Oh, that's a truly awesome name, may I keep it?"

"Let me think of one for you…"

He was highly irritated by this dissolute bastard. By now any other who acted this disrespectful around him would be twitching heap of bloody meat on the ground. His eyes fell upon this straw-hat.

"Spoilsport, Gloomy, Moody, Glareface…Hawk-Eyes! That's great, do you like it?"

He totally ignored the ridiculously uninspired epithet. "What's with that hat?"

Seemingly this remark resulted in a sad memory. He protectively gripped it with both hands and dragged it closer in his face. Eyes shut. Laughter mute. Senses deaf. Only his memories were vivid but hidden to Hawk-Eyes. "Was a present, from my captain, for this new Era."

"I see…" That was a lie. He couldn't even make any use of this respond. He understood the importance and the foul play of fate but not why a hat should be meaningful in this world. To flush down the agony Akagami swallowed another drink whole. "You should get one too!" He grinned again.

"You're a truly peculiar man." Sooner than he recognized what he said the words had dropped out of his mouth. This boy was everything he was not, never was. This is what he saw back on the Plaza. A care-freeness someone like he will never ever possess in his life. No conclusion could be made where exactly fate wanted to lead him.

The other stared at him wide-eyed before grabbing his hand, "We better get the hell out of here, I'm broke", and dragged him out into the night with an angry bartender on their heels.


	4. Chapter 3

**By now i have decided that I will wright all possible slash, het or alternative story twists in a seperate side-story. So that you can decide rather you choose to read it or not.** **Sorry for the long intervall between the up-dates. Currently I don't now how to get Shanks' crew into the focus. Any ideas would be welcome how I can involve Beckmann into the story.**

* * *

><p>Chapter 3 – Aftermath<p>

Mihawk could not believe himself. This kind of childish behaviour does not suit him.

It was…conspicuous. Since his childhood he was drilled to NEVER stand out in the crowd, to always keep in the shadows unless it was necessary to fight. Thereby no avoidable problems would turn up.

The ultimate conclusion out of this education would be to drop this nuisance that was still dragging him through the thankfully empty streets towards an unknown location. Seemingly he stormed towards the harbour as the rain started to cease. Their footsteps echoed between in the small sideways and at this speed the puddles wet their half-dried clothes.

Hawk-Eyes nearly stumbled into the youth as he abruptly stopped at the Docks in a very slim distance to the peaceful Sea.

"Wow, she sure has a deep slumber" mumbled the Redhead absent-mindedly. It was hardly audible. The other frowned at this odd choice of words but choose to correct him: "That's not quite true considering how much movement it hides under its surface."

Shanks averted his gaze from the blue vastness wearing an astonished expression on his face as he turned towards Mihawk. "Damn, that's truly poetic, are you a bard?" The words were still slurred from his heavy drinking earlier.

After this ridiculous comment the atmosphere twisted into an eerie and murderous silence.

Mihawk's twitching eyebrow made Shanks sweat-drop. "Oi, calm down, it was just a jo-"

Unnatural violent Winds raged over the Docks bringing a freezing cold along that crept underneath Shank's still drenched clothes.

Not only did this torment his small frame but also caused him to leap forward into the other man's arms protectively clothing Mihawk's long coat around him.

That didn't really help to raise his mood especially since he was neither fond nor used to closeness.

In particular if the unwanted cuddling was induced by a young overly joyful and nerve-racking sea dog.

The feeling of Shank's beating heart that vibrates on his skin irked him more when he cared to admit.

To put an end to this boldness he pressed his hand into Shank's face trying roughly to push him back and show him his place. He did hardly bunch always forcing himself back on Mihawk. Even Hawk Eyes' sword was growling by now, sensing the irritation and anger of its master.

"Shove off, pirate. I already warned you once and I'm not..."

"But I'm freezing and I'm not harming you. Don't be so shy and let me share your oversized coat..."

These last words snatched the last gear out of the precise clockwork that once was Dracule Mihawk. One could hardly make out his movements as he gripped the handle of his sword and stroke down.

He did not witness the blood-spitting gush he expected. But the air carried a clattering noise as the youngster parried his slash with _ease _even in his drunken state. Mihawk felt a shiver of pure amazement wash over him. The Sea seemed to answer their battle as a wave clashed against landing stages. And as he looked down he was met with a reciprocated thrill in the other's eyes. This single strike promised so much already. So he was not mistaken that the man was more when a dreaming idealist.

He could fight.

Yet as he wished to fully indulge himself in the upcoming battle and spice up their starting fight, Shanks began to stumble and fell head first towards the wooden floor.

But this blow to the head never came. Mihawk had charged forward to prevent this uncomfortable landing. Again he was frustrated with himself. And the cause was all the same as before.

'_Why can't I hold on to my usual self?'_

By now Mihawk's thoughts were spinning so fast that his vision was blurring and his head was pounding. While he still wondered what the origin of this altruistic saving action was he overheard a small sound that was coming from the fainted boy…or so he thought.

Shanks didn't pass out due to some mysterious circumstance. In fact, he was snoring right now. This treacherous snore earned him the formerly evaded hard meeting with the planks.

'Doze off in the middle of battle with an enemy right beside you? Who does he think he is? Who does he think I am?' Such an insult surpassed all the former embarrassments. What a foolish brat. If he cannot break of this habit anytime soon he will get himself killed in no time. Actually he was lying to Grim Reaper's feet right now. The cold rage Mihawk was emitting didn't disturb the sleeping beauty in the slightest way. Neither did the mischievous sword that was hovering over his delicate neck.

Yet his precious sword was no instrument for cowardly murder. This would be a terrible dishonourable deed. Nevertheless Mihawk was not averted to murder itself.

Grapping the still sleeping youth by his collar he dragged him towards the near end of the Docks, balancing him on the edge, his back facing the quivering ocean.

The idea to let him drop like a stone and see him sink was tempting in Mihawk's mind and brought a wicked smirk upon his usually stoic features.

Shanks' facial expression was entirely peaceful. His eye-leads calmly hid his glance despite his earlier snoring his breath escaped his mouth in long, even intervals. Each part of his appearance illustrated his utter unawareness of his upcoming fate.

Shaking the body at his mercy several times Hawk Eyes was desperately trying to accomplish one small task: to simply open his hand.

Mihawk knew well that a person, who can overthrow your ordinary mind set and behaviour, was a threat to your very being, your sanity. An individual with such qualities could generate a live-changing situation, something that he was in no need for. He already had had too many in his life.

Everything worked out superbly in his head. But his hand did not MOVE. The whole absurdity of this state of affairs made him feel like a lunatic. And his sword was moaning like it chose to rebel against his murderous plan for the young pirate.

With a heavy sigh that was untypically for a man as collected as Mihawk Dulacre he heaved the youngster upon his back and carried him in the opposite direction.

* * *

><p>The barkeeper in this well hidden and tiny excuse for a bar looked at him with a mixture of confusion and dread, nervously eyeing the man on his back. By now it was probably long after midnight. Yet nobody thought of sweet recovery tonight with the corpse of the Pirate King only half cold.<p>

Although he was used to long periods of sleepless nights the acquaintance with the energetic kid wore him out. He didn't feel like partying tonight, he had more than a handful of problems already.

Right now they rested and although they were drooling all over his expensive shirt, he hoped that it will stay this way but the destructive volume inside this boozer threatened to crash his intention.

Therefore he slammed his fist on the counter leaving a small crater making the owner stumble back. "Silence", he deadly whispered as the pirates stared at him.

"Oi, you fancy puppy," A stinky old fart with rotten teeth rose to his feet "that's a pirate's bar, so put down your bratty behavior before we tear your blou…"

The severed parts of the old pirate fell separately to the puke-crusted floor. Nobody dared to even twitch their widened eyes. Completely unimpressed Mihawk let a few berry clatter on the abused counter.

"A room, now"

"O..On the up..upper fl..floor!"

Without sparing another demining side-glance at those pathetic passengers of the bar he lifted the dead weight up the stairs to the even more run down garret of this…"inn".

As he opened the shackled door displayed sight did not improve his view of the establishment.

The floor of the room was covered in think dust and the walls smeared over with odd stains. The bed small, its frame broken, and there was only one of it.

Irritated by all the stupidity he carted on his shoulders – literally – he let out another untypically deep sigh and tossed the sleeping log on the bed just to watch Shanks bounce off and fell face forward into the floor whirling up clouds of filth, grunting and sneezing but continuing snoozing.

He could not help the small chuckle that left his mouth.

Sick of playing the nanny for an ignorant and loud-mouthed baby pirate he simply flipped the yellowed and torn blanket over the motionless form and made himself as comfortable as possible on the small bed.

Not caring if the pirate froze his ass off. He was enough of a benefiter this night.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four - Coming Home**

The splash of water hit him hard and so did the ledge of the bed.

"Oww, Dammit", he was rubbing his forehead as he blinked rapidly to make out why exactly he was on the floor, NEXT TO a bed no less. Soon he noticed some madly looking old man in front of him. "Hi!"

"Save your Hi! Out of my house! I'm still trying to scrub the bloody remains of a customer that your scary friend cut open out of my floor! And he did not even pay enough for one night."

Shanks was highly confused. He thought that he and Glareface were getting along just fine and they could form a crew together and now that Meany dumped him. His glance fell on a small ripped piece of paper that was slightly wetted by the rough waking method of the- whoever the grandpa was.

[We will meet again – D.M.]

'Oh, isn't he warmhearted? That's what I would call a love letter.' He inwardly chuckled over his own joke and Mihawk's preference for fateful letters.

Scrabbling up his belongings – actually this only meant this letter and himself – he ignored the still grumbling owner as his usually nonchalant face turned into a thoughtful expression.

No matter how funny he considered these overly dramatic words to be, he was still confused what to make out of the truth behind them. Rather this peculiar fellow meant trouble or benefit.

Shanks wasn't careless. He noticed the malicious aura of the swordsman. Although it was short so far, life has already taken its toll of him, making him keen and resistant. This was the only reason he could possible bear being around Hawk-Eyes. Despite his age, the other seemed to be fearless without being ignorant, strong and skilled without being cocky and versed in knowledge that one could call it wisdom. A feature others need whole life-times to archive.

Something was off. But yet he was unable to put his finger on it. The origin of his existence, his whole being might be more than it meets the eye. Even though this question appears problematic the biggest concern should be that Shanks wasn't scared.

No, he was _intrigued, s_parked with curiosity by all the secrets surrounding that cold bastard and the adventures waiting on their discovery.

Grinning like a mad lion in the face of danger, Shanks grabbed a bottle of rum from behind the counter as he walked out of this dumpster. It was midday already and the streets were filled with life. While passing small stores along the street he snatched an apple here and bread there.

Only a few whispers in alleys reminded of fateful yesterday – and his terrible hangover.

* * *

><p>No breeze. No wave. No sound. No movement.<p>

The ship stood still. And so did he, waiting, and thinking, since 3 days.

They were testing him. Rather his desire was important enough to be heard. Yet being heard wasn't anywhere near being fulfilled.

Not at all.

Luckily, for a man who has lost, a soul with only one purpose, there was no price inacceptable. And they knew that – knew very well how to exploit this.

Not that he minded. It seemed just. For a crime you have to pay. Even he considered this a truth.

Something was approaching, drawing nearer with small humming echoes that seemed to engulf him. He knew that sound. They were coming.

Not another second past before a person stepped on his boat. Seemingly out of nowhere – he knew better.

The passenger bowed. Mute and blind. He was here for service, for nothing else. Unable to do anything else but leading him across this sea. Carrying only a pole in his right hand and offering his open left hand.

A Charon – A ferryman.

"You will be paid later. Bring me home. I can tell they are waiting"

He bowed even deeper as he passed me and changed the direction. The boat started moving.

* * *

><p>Unfazed by all the insults the people shouted as he stole their goods he proceeded towards the harbor. He needed a ship. Maybe he could <em>persuade<em> some old fisher to _lend_ him a boat. Or maybe he could find a companion with a ship, to be out on the Sea alone might be boring. Or he could stow away on a big ship. Or he could take another drink and have some fun.

He ruffled his head screaming out his frustration. Already overwhelmed by all this stupid thoughts, he did not know what to choose. He definitely wasn't a levelheaded type of person. People were looking strangely at him due to his out-burst. Some even stopped to stare and whispered.

Shanks sighed in resignation and started pouting. It would be stupid to set sail without a plan. He didn't even know where he wanted to go first since he has no clue where he possibly could go. He never was in the East Blue before. That means he needed a sea chart and other information and a cheap way in obtaining it since he was broke.

And as the perfect idea popped up in his head he took a spin on his heel and chased off in the different direction.

* * *

><p>The Marine Base on this island was an entire joke. But this didn't change the fact that it was crowded. High-ups from all over the world still didn't depart. That meant trouble should he be caught but there was no more reliable source of information. Although he didn't seem to be much a person to spy effectively, especially quietly, on others yet he made his share of experiences while travelling alongside his famous captain…former captain. Shaking his head to clear his thoughts and lighten his mood he ran behind a covered line of barrels to sit and wait for his chance to infiltrate the base.<p>

"Get yer asses movin'" screamed the marine officer, "these barrels full of good ol' whiskey for the Vice Admirals meeting! Four of the highest hero's of the Marines who knew this fucking thrash Gold Roger himself! Even Vice Admiral Garp who actually brought this fiend to justice will honour us with his presence. So better move faster before I find ways that will make you run like the rats you are!"

A whole crowd of this uniformed marionettes started to progress towards his position. Perfect opportunity. Worst moment ever. 'Maybe I should rethink my… Ow no, enough waiting! Let's have some fun'

As they stormed to fulfill their important tasks that makes them so very irreplaceable for their honest institution of Absolute Justice each of those ants grabbed one barrel to storm right back as their master whistled in the background.

There right at the end of this tribe was his victim. Alone. Unwatched. Weak. Just as the soldier turned he grabbed him from behind his hide out and dragged him out of side with a single move or sound made.

He starred wide-eyed into the watery eyes, scarred shitless, of this poor youngster in front of him. Evil as the big bad pirate Shanks was he grinned his usual shit-eatingly wide smile and knock his prey out and changed clothes with him before the barrel of precious booze could burst on the dirty ground.

"Phase One complete", Shanks mumbled happily to himself. His flames perfectly hidden underneath this stereotype cap. His victim sleeping merrily underneath a blanket. His target ready to be entered.

"Ready, Set, Go", he stormed right after his unit in high expectation to stumble across new adventures.

But our firebrand wasn't aware of all the up-coming twists in this event: fateful meetings yet to make, unhappy reunions and fortune acquaintances.

* * *

><p>The survival meal was still steaming as he spread across his bare and wounded back. His dark mane merged with the boiling fluid and the crusted remains of blood and purulence of his untreated injuries. Spine and skin were glowing with flaming heat and throbbing pain. Despite all this he felt eerily cold. Like the life swept out from underneath his feet, slipping further and further away with each droplet of sweat, blood and stinking piss.<p>

The guard spitting on his face laughed loudly. "I brought you dinner and served it properly for a low-life dog like yourself" and swayed out of the cell leaving him once again in darkness engulfing his restless sleep. He surely needed a cigarette right now.


	6. Chapter 5

Sorry for taking so long to write a new chapter. For all of you who are reading this despite me being such a lame ass about it: Be welcome or welcome back :). But I also have a warning for you. From here on out it might get a hell-of-a-lot confusing and I cannot promise you that it all will fell in place anytime soon. None the less I hope my story will keep on entertaining you folks ;). If there are any question, I will be glad trying to answer them.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Five – Need Light? <strong>

Nothing has changed since his last visit. The palace still shining white with crystal red. The Ancient leaders still traditionalists and senile. The blood still scarlet red and delicious. The throne still empty. Still no place for him. Nothing has changed.

"You returned quite fast despite your humble promise to depart until your next summoning by the new Queen. Why the change of mind? Do not dare blaming the waywardness of your youth, swordsman."

The harsh address yanked him out of his flashback and regardless of his inner uproar his face remained stoic and bored. Those old men, the Ancient, did not deserve any kind of reaction. They probably did neither tolerated nor appreciate it anyway.

_["Open emotions are the fiend of a soldier. Although if emotions grow into desire, it turns into a powerful weapon. Only the most magnificent soldiers can obtain such great power and stand beside the Queen as the SALIGIA, her guardians. To advice. To protect. To fight."] _

_'And to kill, if needed.'_

"I did not change. Fate brought me back upon this place. It was not your command that forced me, so there is no need for further words unless you choose to speak them."

"Go right ahead, _she_ awaits you upon Crow's Peak."

Mihawk turned on his heels already sick of these old men talking. But with no appropriate Queen waiting to claim this throne they are like any port in the storm. Like the whole world lies in anticipation of a new pirate king he yearned for a new Queen to reign supreme over his homeland

Yet this solution is better than some untamed youngster in expectation to prove himself and in the process leading this country to mayhem.

This place was in desperate need for a new Queen.

* * *

><p>This nest lied at the far end of a thorny forest flanking the palace in the west.<p>

The spiky mountain range nearly scratched the thinly woven clouds as they rose to heaven in slimly plain forms. Only one mountain peak differed from the others.

Near its top peak was a cave scraped into the solid and shimmering red material. The energy emitting from this stone is unbearable for outsiders. One of the greatest secrets this country has to offer. The origin of all life forms in this area … and their abilities and _urges._

In helices red inked essence streamed down the sides of the mountain from the small high puddle of water in the back of the range.

Right there in the centre of the cave the source of fateful phrases waited for his arrival in order to chatter his world once more.

But he did not expect what greeted his sight on top of the peak. Behind a young woman with sable hair decorated with ornaments of crafted stone mounted up a mammoth griffin in gleaming silver much like the moon at its fullest.

The beauty slowly raised her hand filled with flesh towards the beak of the mutated bird, slyly observing every twitch of its muscles. The blood formed capillary currents down her arm oozing and clotted on her long white sleeve. The scarlet gore seemed deep dark against her pale ivory skin.

Mihawk recognized it from its silken smell with the sweet edge, sickeningly heavy and numbing his senses. These were definitely human organs used for feeding those monstrous beasts. They loved it when the heart is still warm, freshly torn out of the breathing body.

"Dulacre Mihawk, a noble visit. You swore returning to kill me for the rotten task fate casted on you through my voice. Are you intending to prove your words right?"

With only one shift of her delicate hand the creature obeyed, leaving them alone to the symphonies of water. She spun around to reveal her single eye.

"Appearing in front of me with questions? After you forced me for so long to meet the streams of fate with only one healthy eye?" she stepped closer slowing stroking his face, grazing the edge of his eye and continuing close to his lips. "After you smashed the other in my socket with your claws devouring my screams? You are a very impudent creature, Dulacre Mihawk. Even among our vicious breed"

"You already ensured my punishment! I only guaranteed you will never forget WHY you deserved to have those both eyes razed!" Mihawk spitted these words into her face with rage hoping he could finish her fate with his sword. Both of them were burning with the lust to feel her blood.

She mockingly turned her back and proceeded towards the center of the clearing where a small basin sea of blood was enthroned.

Striping naked she stepped into the scarlet source of life and fortune fully swallowing her to her breasts. Her delicate hands rested on both sides of the basin

"God and Death are none of my concern. My words are no web of my own but spun by fate. But speak, what question burns deep inside your empty shell?"

His ribcage nearly burst from the rapid frequency of his heart remembering his cause for being on this cursed island. Dripping the essences of a phial in her instrument of presage as his own bloody tribute, he endeavored to erase reminiscences of unalterable past ruefully glancing at his sword.

"A man crossed my path… "

* * *

><p>Moving around this base wasn't as easy as he had hoped for.<p>

After he was dismissed by this annoying Marine officer he desperately paced around looking for the room they stored the charts in. But this whole layout was an entire mess and Shanks was too proud to admit that he might just be lost entirely.

Till he crossed the next corner, catching a few phrases of a quite interesting conversation. He made sure to remain hidden. Somehow he honestly doubted that he could simply ask these simple marine dogs where to properly steal a superb map.

"…The idiot was caught on the spot bragging about this sea chart he stole. Now he's rotting in the dungeon along this crazy marksman who slaughtered the Captain last week…"

In that moment it dawned to Shanks why this base was messed up like a Giant went right through it. Some blessed fellow got rid off this nuisance of a marine captain. Apparently the higher-ups in this boot-linking marine hierarchy considered it a genius idea to put the stupidest and most brutal chump in charge of Captain Roger's Birthplace. Rumors said he terrorized the towns-people more than all pirates stepping into their domain. So who ever bite the hard bullet he deserved free drinks in all bars around Rogue Town instead of a shitty dungeon.

_'But first things first. Silently follow the marines.'_

"WHY ARE YOU COWERING BEHIND THE BARRELS, SOLDIER?"

All barrels crashed to the floor as Shanks jumped in utter shock attempting to fall as gracefully to the ground as possible while he stumbled across all of them. Panic was rushing through his whole system as he stood up, rubbing his sour nose.

_'Think, think of something, anything but the truth, you can lie, I believe in you, Shanks. Just say SOMETHING'_

"Ehh, I was looking for…WOW, you are a woman…eh, Sir"

_'Ok, maybe there were wrong answers indeed'_

"Explain yourself, soldier." She remained calm. Poor, youngsters. They were always so flustered when spoken to. Obviously this young man didn't even know she was a Vice-Admiral. She blamed it on the pitiable marine education only adequate for knuckle-heads. If you're wishing for brightness, you'd better bring it yourself or you were cannon fodder in the next instance. But with age comes patience. So she allowed him his very-much needed time.

"I was looking for a chart…I mean Charty…my…CAT! Yeah, my cat! She ran off and I thought these fellows, I mean soldiers, were talking about her!"

Despite this honestly lame lie the Vice-Admiral seemed satisfied although she was looking at Shanks expectant until he recognized that he should salute in order to keep the last remains of his camouflage upright.

Following the picture he saw so many times on marine soldiers he lifted his hand to his fore head in order to show his 'respect'. But his actions were a little too hasty. Sweaty from anxiety his fingers slipped past his forehead tossing the marine head to the floor and revealing his flaming red hair to the marine woman. Her eyes widened before they turned to slits.

Shanks sweatdropped, _'I'm screwed'_

"I've never seen a Marine with such out-standing hair before. Although I might have seen a picture fitting your features. Which division do you belong to?"

"Ehh…the thirteenth's?" he tried.

"And I assume your cute cat Charty has landmarks written all over her and leads you right out of the East Blue. Or am I mistaken, Red-Haired Shanks, member of the Roger pirates?"

"Hello to you, too" And with a spurt he run in the opposite direction trying to get as far away as he could from this woman before she could ring the alarm. Maybe he could find a good hiding spot, maybe he would be running into the chart room by mistake, he turned around to make sure nobody was close to him, maybe he might even –

His whole body was sent flying through the air as his upper body hit something incredible hard making him cough up a massive among of blood and leaving him slammed to the ground with only coughing attempts to breathe properly. He glanced up at mere schemes of the two broad man who brought him down; he knew he was short before passing out.

"Filthy pirate scum.", the first uttered with pure hate, stomping HARD onto his throbbing head, "I am going to make it absolutely clear even for an idiot like yourself, Red-Hair, once the next day comes you will meet the same fate your captain did!" The other simply passed them by.

"Where are you going, Garp?" the vicious man standing above him blurted out. Looking back stoically Garp simply glared at his fellow Marine. "I think you are capable enough to throw half a baby into the dungeon, Sakazuki" and he simply moved his way as Shanks passed out.

* * *

><p>The cold floor of the dungeon woke him with a snotty sneeze and a nasty cramp in his neck.<p>

"You criminals sure get younger every day" mumbled a voice in a corner of his current residence. Shanks blinked away the dust – hopefully only dust – in his eyes to look for the source of this comment. Nearly completely shadowed sat a man with bare chest and an unlit cigarette in the corners of his mouth and DAMN those were some nasty wounds that covered his entire being.

"And they sure to break us criminals even more every day. Mate, what have they done to you?" Shanks nearly gagged at the imagination how the poor fellow got his wounds and the stench added his share…

"I AM NO CRIMINAL FOR PROTECTING MY FAMILY!" the man screamed out. He was right. Shanks felt that he was righteous. Whatever he had done happened for the right reasons and then the young man remembered the conversation he stumbled by…

"Thank you." He said clearly with a humble smile.

His fellow comrade behind these bars only starred at him puzzled; more than confused about his statement.

"For getting us rid of this shitty pile of a Marine Captain, marksman" Shanks elaborated and saw the eyes of the disfigured man widen with surprise until he laughed. It was a true laugh and it sounded as if it was kept hidden for quite an awful amount of time. Shanks was wishing to continue hearing this laugh on his journeys. He could feel the relief behind this laughter and was arching with an uneasy notion why it was buried for so long inside this man.

He was robbing towards the mysteries man he was about to make friends with and placed himself right next to him leaning on the bars. "Need Light for that one?" Shanks uttered, pointing at the cigarette.

"Care to give me any?" The man questioned.

"Well, sadly, I don't to have any with me." His friend slammed his head into the iron bars behind him repeatingly before staring up at the ceiling. "That's fucked up."

"Maybe we should simply get you some?" A wicked grin was smeared to Shanks' face. "By the way, its Shanks, I'd be shaking your hand for nice comradeship but…"

The other man grinned in union. "Save it for later than. Mine's Benn, Benn Beckman"


	7. Chapter 6

Sadly my studies are taking their toll on me and put the story into a coma. Sorry for those of you who are eager to continue reading but I can only get to work once in a while. But have fun anyway.

* * *

><p><strong>Chapter Six - Escapes<strong>

Shattering noises of rigid bars were depriving him of sleep nearly as effectively as the pictures of his family. The youngster's frustrated although colourful curses added up to that problem.

"I doubt these bars give way to words not that I think sense is one of your virtues when you honestly sneaked into a Marine Base as an already wanted pirate" managed Benn to rumble out with his sore voice. It shrieked like sandpaper upon a gun. He hasn't drunken in days. He lost count of the amount and the constant blood loss was making him dizzy. He could feel the terribly hot throbbing followed by periods of numbness that told him his wounds probably caught a severe infection.

Although the noises did not help his regeneration, the youngster was a welcome distraction. He was entirely clueless why the boy decided to verbally engulf him with his entire life. He told him about Gold Roger and his tears of yesterday's execution. Why he became a pirate in the first place, how he loves to get rat-arsed – A hobby Benn considered inappropriate for a 15-year-old lad and what he blamed Shanks lunacy on – and the meeting with an obviously grumpy fellow swordsman. In fewer than 30 minutes no less.

"Well I needed a map! Or I'd be lost upon the East Blue. It's not my home after all. But if you would become a crew member of mine we could visit the Grandline together!" Shanks exclaimed nonchalantly without heeding any complaints Benn might have with becoming a pirate in the first place. Or the possibility that he might have never left Logue Town ever in 25 years and thereby would be equally lost.

Before he could protest, a Marine officer stamped over from the corner admitting he failed to endure the noises from the cell.

"Shut it, you low life!" He screamed foaming with hot anger he draw closer to the bars shoving his finger forward like an intimidating weapon. Strangely Shanks took a step back. "Not only am I the only fucking unlucky devil who has to watch over you sick unlawful dogs and miss my change to meet the Marine Elite! No, your nagging also won't let me sleep! So either you-"His tirade was aborted and replaced by an unhealthy cracking sound followed by an awful scream. "Alone, heh?" Shanks was grinning like a Cheshire Cat while holding the broken arm of the soldier in an almost right angle against the bars of their current residence. In a very fast movement he had pulled the sleepy Marine's arm into the cell and had multiply broken it with a swift twist of his hands.

Instinct kicked Benn off the floor after Shanks' words and his fingers snug around the keys hanging carelessly on the side of the whimpering soldier. Ripping the key ring in two he staggered towards the cell door and opened it with a screeching sound of rust in old hinges. In a skilled turn he tore the man's flint from his bag and gave him a powerful blunt blow to his head ending his tantrum.

Only as Shanks let go of the mingled arm and the soldier hung like a deformed rag doll in the bars Benn dared breathing again and stared wide eyed into the pirate's triumphal face. Shanks shrugged his shoulders. "Well, you don't open cells with words". Still holding the flint close to the tortured remains of his chest he couldn't help but grin at Shanks successful plan. Not a complete lunatic than.

But as he turned to express his honest surprise Shanks was gone. Instead he heard rustling noises coming from a nearby room. "There you are!" the youngster exclaimed and appeared merrily drinking in the doorway. As he met Benn's scolding glare he started to look apologetic and idly came towards the angered adult.

"Sorry" as Shanks raised his arm, Benn expected him to pass the bottle into his waiting hand. Instead he passed it right by and emptied the remains of the strong liquor in generous circles on his already ignited back. The singe of the burning liquor caused his back to arch. Unfortunately for Shanks the move also descended to Benn's fist that struck him hard over the head.

"You ASSHOLE!" Both of them screamed. Heavily breathing they tried to sort their thoughts.

Benn got a grip of himself ignoring the pain and his blurred eyesight, he spoke: "First let's get our belongings and then we must find a way out of here before this big event here is over. "

"No," responded Shanks while eyeing Benn. The worry in his eyes for the foreigner clearly shown.

"Listen kid, when we don't keep moving-"Benn started explaining as Shanks reached out to test his wounds with a feathery touch. Benn felt as if Shanks would have given him yet another slash with a whip. The point Shanks wanted to make was crystal clear. They would not come far with Benn in this condition and the pirate had no intention in robbing his freedom of the imprisonment of another man.

'_And I thought this last run would be easy. Stubborn bastard of a pirate._' Benn thought to himself. Shanks mutely led Benn into the store room of the dungeon and put him on an empty wooden crate. If another Marine was to enter their hideout, Benn was sure by the hot waves of fury and true compassion for the marksman's' pain radiating from the youngster's body that Shanks would mercilessly slay this intruder in an instant without second thoughts or regret.

Strange enough Benn's imagination played a trick on his mind telling him that these feelings started to sooth his pain. But Benn could also sense Shanks' desperation underneath the determined gaze. He didn't know how to treat him without dealing further damage.

His words made Shanks jump out of his trance "Look if you can find some water to clean the wound than you can repeat this lunatic stunt with the booze and wrap me up like a mummy."

Spinning his head and body around several times to find the suitable objects, hurrying he emptied a bucket with ropes and filled in water from a nearby sink. The liquid was freezing and smelled rusty. Out of options Shanks put a part of his shirt as an improvised rag to clean the wounds in the water. Nearby something shiny caught his eye and made him grin. He snatched the small metal canister off the run-down furniture. With full hands he was kicking the crate with the whiskey bottles towards Benn's makeshift sickbay.

Readying for the pain Benn only heard a clicking sound and a warm sensation next to his face.

"Found some light after all." Shanks mumbled and following his habits Benn leant in and as the venomous smoke entered his lungs he exhaled it in a blessed sigh. Slowly those familiar fumes embraced his mind and eased the pain. "This is my only cigarette, lad, so you better make it fast."

In nervous anticipation of the suffering he would have to cause Benn to get them both out of this Marine shit-hole alive, Shanks drowned his fluttering heart in a stream of burning liquor before settling behind Benn.

* * *

><p>"Parts of his crew are still on this island! We need to take our opportunity and choke off this entire pack of rats before they start roaming again!" Sakazuki was boiling with indignation nearly breaking the table underneath his fist. Nobody was uttering a word. Each Marine no matter what rank sat there in the usual stoic stance. Arms folded and overly focused expression. Garp was sick of this pretentious bullshit and Tsuru could see it all. The satisfaction and the deep wound the death of his best fiend tore into his life.<p>

The bitterness the eager, unrestraint words and bloodthirsty attitude of Sakazuki left in his mouth drove him further away from the World Government and his Vow to the Marines. Tsuru's kind heart ached with worry for her long friend. He looked terrible old in a moment where he should rejoice.

The Vice-Admiral's concerns were interrupted by Sakazuki's ongoing tirade "...best to kill all pirates in this town. It will send a message – "the advice was cut off by a saké cup shattering against a wall.

"And then? You go on and sink this island? Level the whole world to the ground? There is no stopping this." Garp was eyeing Sakazuki with a glare seriously cold. His opponent wasn't flinching nor freezing he stood and stared with ignited hatred into the eyes of their so-called hero. "Yes, I would torch entire islands to extinct this plague. Yesterday's execution proved that every pirate can die-"

"We aren't talking about PIRATES, not death but BIRTH. Do you even know what happened yesterday? You can slash, kill, mingle and send little messages all you want. A body can stop breathing but a WILL like this continues. And it sure as hell doesn't need blood for that! Before his lights were blown out Roger send it across the world, shattering bits of it upon the plaza and what he could not reach words will and everyone – good or bad – will be setting out towards the Grandline looking for his promises. Too many for you to even count, impossible to exterminate. YOU CANNOT KILL AN ERA!"

Garp's heart and thoughts were throbbing insight his ears. Deafening him to the unsaid response of a mute Sakazuki and starring at the open mouth of his colleagues. An arm dragged him outside the room to a nearby window. The fresh air eased the tension in his body and helped him breath new sense into his old stubborn head. Or at least Tsuru hoped for it.

"Oh dammit, stop looking all worried and concerned or it will give you even more wrinkles." His expression lighted up a bit although some weariness remained. It was probably never going to leave anymore. No matter how cheerful, charismatic and powerful the human, age is age. A terrible symptom that does not wear off. She was singing that song in her own head for a while now.

"Same goes to Sengoku. I am still me. I will still beat pirates into bloody pulps. I am just not in my best form right now."

"Then better get a grip on yourself, young man." Garp could not help but laugh. Tsuru the ever-lasting patronizing old hag. How he appreciated her input, unaffected by these law-abiding dullness of most Marines. "Did you see him?"

She did not attend. Tsuru hated unnecessary slaughter. And she especially hated execution. In addition to the useless bloodshed, severe complications can occur. Or catastrophes. Like in Roger's case. "No, but I felt the roar of thunders in clouds yet to come."

Garp was frowning at her. Tilting his head to the side and biting his bottom lip. Thirty years younger he would probably look cute instead of utterly ridiculous with this odd action.

"You do not need to wrap it up in cozy feathers to express that we are screwed." Tsuru rolled her eyes at the knucklehead's bluntness. But her annoyance faded as she saw Garp with an uneasy gaze starring upon the harbor. And remembered his words about blood. And his troubled expression after his last confrontation with Roger before his execution.

Roger knew everyone connected to him would fall under the crosshairs of the Marines. Garp was the only dead angle to hide a secret in. A death wish traded for a death sentence.

And her knowledge got her stuck between her duty and her friend by her sense of justice. And despite her age she was still unsure if she will ever be able write down a definition that can combine all aspects to that simple word. She childishly wished to demand those answers from Garp.

Usually time would help her comprehend her dual thoughts. An option she could not afford in this matter of urgency. But with Sakazuki's fury still ringing in her ears and visions of half a kid rotting in the dungeon below, she stepped closer to only have Garp hearing her words.

"What do two more souls matter? " The hero paled instantly and a single drop of sweat found its way from his forehead into the collar of his now choking uniform. Tsuru leant in even further lowering her voice to a whisper. "Baterilla. Be safe. "

Before she turned on her heels as Garp's massive form begun shaking with laughter of relief. Hoping her new sworn silence was just.


End file.
